


Some kind of Peace

by SamuelGodDamnDrake (iamironman923)



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamironman923/pseuds/SamuelGodDamnDrake
Summary: Sam had never had anyone to look out for him. It was always his job to take care of Nathan, to take care of himself. But when he found Rafe all that had changed. When he found Rafe he felt like for once in his life he didn't have to be the big strong protector, that he could let his walls down and actually have someone care for him too. Nearly a year had passed. They got to know each other on a deeper level than Sam had ever come to let someone know him on. He had let Rafe see him, the real him for all that he was and never once thought anything of it. Because for once in his life Sam felt safe. And Sam had all but thought it was working out perfectly. Rafe seemed so happy, so comfortable. He never imagined it would end like this.





	1. And so, this is how it ends?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_Only_Need_Sam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Only_Need_Sam/gifts), [Xmenfreak499](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Xmenfreak499).



> This is a very personal piece. It has no correlation with the game as far as timeline. It was written after someone I care about sent me a small snippet of something they had written.
> 
> Edit:9.21.17  
> No longer continuing this piece because apparently it has "nothing to do with the characters" and is "...a pile out of character garbage."

Sam stood there, his heart shattering into a million pieces, as he stared into Rafe's face. Those cool collected baby blues staring back at him, blankly. “I-I don't understand....” He stepped forward, but Rafe took a step back and continued to look at him evenly.

“I am sorry Samuel. This just isn't working. We said we would try, I just don't feel like this is working. I hope that we can still be friends.” Rafe turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, leaving Sam staring after him. He shook his head. This couldn't be happening.

Sam stood there for what had felt like an eternity. Letting Rafe's words sink in. 'This isn't working...', 'I hope we can still be friends...', none of it made sense. Just two days ago the two of them had been sitting on the beach, waves rolling over the sand in front of them, Rafe leaned into Sam's side. Sam laying soft kisses on the nape of his neck. How could things have changed so quickly? It just didn't make any sense.

Slowly he made his way over to the couch. Sitting down, still staring blankly ahead. His mind was swimming as he thought back to what could have gone wrong. Rafe had been gone for 2 longs months before coming home a few days prior. Sam had missed him every day. Before he had left Sam had finally broke down his walls and let him in, opening himself up like a rose in bloom. All red and soft, its petals an open book for those around it. He had told Rafe about the orphanage. About growing up on the run. About raising Nathan and trying to give him the best life he could. About never really knowing who he was more than taking care of Nathan. How he never imagined himself falling in love until he had met Rafe, and how now he knew who he wanted to be, what he wanted to be.

Sam had never had anyone to look out for him. It was always his job to take care of Nathan, to take care of himself. But when he found Rafe all that had changed. When he found Rafe he felt like for once in his life he didn't have to be the big strong protector, that he could let his walls down and actually have someone care for him too. Nearly a year had passed. They got to know each other on a deeper level than Sam had ever come to let someone know him on. He had let Rafe see him, the real him for all that he was and never once thought anything of it. Because for once in his life Sam felt safe. And Sam had all but thought it was working out perfectly. Rafe seemed so happy, so comfortable. He never imagined it would end like this.

Sam eventually found himself slouching down into the couch cushions until his back hurt and he gave up, allowing himself to lay down fully on the couch. His eyes bleary from crying and all the life drained from him. He watched absentmindedly as the sun faded from bright white, to gold, to crimson, to the dark of night. Rafe still tucked away in his study upstairs.

 

* * *

 

When he finally did come down stairs Rafe entered the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He had been putting it off for hours, returning back down stairs, but finally weariness got the best of him and he was forced to leave his office.

“Sam?” He asked from the kitchen. “Sam, are you hungry?” But there wasn't a sound. Maybe Sam had left? But Rafe heard a small sniffling noise and knew that Sam was laying on the couch. Probably still crying from Rafe's confession earlier that day. So he poured a second glass of water and walked around the side of the leather sofa to find him there. Eyes puffy and red, half lidded. He reached a hand out and Rafe furrowed his brow. He knew there were probably words that he should say, but his throat was so tight it was almost like he couldn't breath. Here in front of him lied the man that he loved, the man who had given him a reason, when he didn't think he had one.

His whole life had been about making his own name, about not just being defined by his last name, and then Sam came along and life would never be the same. Sam who was so strong and so funny. Who had been given nothing from life from the time he entered the world and had still somehow gone through shouting havoc into the wind, with a smile on his face and the storms of life nothing but dogs barking at his heels. Never looking back and always looking to the future. It was that look that had drawn Rafe in, that look which had made him wonder, for the very first time, if maybe, just maybe he could be a part of that future.

Starring into Sam's eyes he saw nothing of that look now, only desperation and fear. He didn't know what to do. So he did the only thing he could. He climbed onto the couch, positioning himself behind Sam, and wrapped his arms around him. He began to hum in Sam's ear, because he knew he liked it when he sang, and he held him through the tears and fears that plagued him.

* * *

 

Sam lay there for what felt like an eternity. Rafe's arms like vice grips around his middle as he hummed into his ear. It was a slow song, something he recognized from some long forgotten road trip on one of their many adventures. But it didn't matter what song it was. The soothing tone and rhythm of Rafe's voice was all that mattered.

It didn't take long before Sam was in tears again. Things were falling apart right before his very eyes and he had no way to stop it. Rafe had come to him, his face drawn in a blank mask. How it often was when he was worried. When he spoke it was all words that Sam could hear but his brain would not, no, could not process them.

He had found himself reaching out a hand to touch Rafe's face. Thinking that maybe it was just a dream. That maybe if he reached out he could wipe away whatever smoky lies hung on Rafe's tongue. But he was wrong. “I-I don't understand...” He had said, his voice hollow and low. And he laid his large frame down on the plush couch that he had often fallen asleep on. Those nights used to happen a lot, he would fall asleep while Rafe worked on their next venture and he would wake up to Rafe petting his hair and asking him to come to bed.

Come to think of it, that had changed too. Rafe no longer asked him to come to bed, but instead Sam would find himself waking in the middle of the night, back sore and head aching. And he would climb the flight of stairs to their shared bedroom to find the door closed and Rafe tucked away in bed. He just never imagined there was reason behind it.

So he lay there, openly weeping in the arms of the man who had just shattered his whole world. Hearing his voice singing to him softly all the while his face was pressed into the back of the taller mans skull, as Sam felt the last bits of his happiness slipping from his grasp.

* * *

 

When Rafe finally did let go, he pushed himself off of the couch and wormed his way out of the cushions from behind Sam. He heard Sam whimper softly, and it tugged at his heart. He didn't want to hurt Sam like this but he knew that the longer the two of them stayed together, the harder the fall would be fore him when he finally did break things off. So, he didn't look back. Not when he heard Sam whimper. Not when he heard a new rush of tears wrack through Sam's body.

“I-uh....I put your things in the spare room down the hall. Your blanket is in there too.” There was so much more that he wanted to say, but couldn't. He wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, because knowing Sam, he probably thought it was something he had done. He wanted to tell him that he still loved him, just not in the way he needed. He wanted to love him that way, but just couldn't find it in himself. He was too cold, too heartless, too....Rafe. So instead he walked slowly up the stairs to what used to be their shared room, closed the door with a soft click, and climbed into bed.

* * *

Sam didn't leave that position for nearly 4 hours. He watched every minute click by on the clock that stood on the television stand. He could not imagine walking up stairs and climbing into one of the cold guest beds, when he felt like he should be cuddling up next to Rafe. He couldn't imagine going to bed and not having a warm body next to him. Could not imagine what it would feel like to continue alone. So he lay there, afraid to move and shatter what was left of his broken heart and soul.

Morning couldn't come fast enough. Sam lay awake replaying every single interaction the two of them had shared over the past two months. Every phone call, every email, every text. All of it seemed so natural, so domestic, so right. But he had been wrong. Sam blinked to clear his head as he replayed one of their conversations over in his head.

They had been talking about Rafe's arrival in a few days time. Sam had gotten butterflies just thinking about having Rafe back in his arms. But he had recalled Rafe's voice in his ear. “Now Samuel, I will have quite a few business partners with me when I get off the plane. I need you to refrain from touching me until we are home. If these people find out that the son of the Adler's is a homosexual, that will mean big trouble for the company.” Of course Sam had said he could do that, had assured Rafe up and down that he would be on his best behavior. But on the day of his pick up Sam had rushed to Rafe and greeted him with a wild kiss, picking Rafe up and nuzzling into his neck while the smaller man turned cherry red in his plush black suit. Of course Rafe had been upset, but had forgiven Sam all the same assuring him that he would get him back some day. Not that that day would ever come now, Sam thought.

The tears began to fall again. Kissing Rafe had been like the first cool drink of water in the desert. It had been like no drug sold on the market. It was intoxicating and wild, yet cool and calming. It was something Sam could see himself getting addicted to for the rest of his life and yet now it had been snatched right out from underneath him. He sighed as the tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his nose. With every memory the pain felt more and more real.

Finally, after the dull ache in his back had turned to a hot raging fire Sam decided to make his was upstairs. He stopped in front of Rafe's door. Wishing he could will himself to open it, wishing he could just walk in and lay down in their bed. Lay down in the bed where he had spent the last 2 years. But, he knew Rafe didn't want him there anymore and he knew that even if he wanted to, it would be wrong. So he trudged down the hall and opened the door to their guest bedroom where his things were.

The room was cold. Although more than likely that was just Sam's imagination and as he lay down in the bed it gave a deep creaking groan. A sign that this room had not been used in a long time. He was so tired. So emotionally worn down. So he closed his eyes and hoped that sleep would bring him some form of peace.

 

 

 


	2. What comes next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all is said and done, what comes next for Samuel Drake?

Sam woke feeling groggy and exhausted. His sleep was filled with nothing but nightmares. Rafe standing in front of him saying over and over again' “I hate you. You need to get out of my house.” Each time in a different scenario, a different location. An endless loop he could never escape. He shook his head, leaning forward in bed and burring his face in his hands. God, it was going to be a long day.

Sam sighed heavily, swinging his feet over the side of the mattress and moving to stand up. It was nearly mid day and the sun filtered through the curtains in thick streams of light. He watched the dust motes float in its glow before making his way to the door. The wood floor was cold on his feet and he rubbed them together roughly as he pulled the door open slowly. Outside of it there was a laundry basket filled with what seemed to be clean clothes, a note was laying on top. He slowly unfolded it as he pulled the basket into the room.

 

_'Sam, this is what was left of your things from my room. I had the laundry service wash and dry them. -Rafe”_

 

Sam breathed shakily. So, it was still happening. He still wanted Sam to live in the spare room, still wanted him to act like everything was okay even though he was breaking inside. Sam shook his head. He wasn't okay. None of this was okay, and wouldn't be for a long time.

It took Sam another hour to mentally prepare himself to leave his new accommodations and when he finally made his way down the hall he had to force himself not to look into Rafe's study. Where he knew Rafe would be typing away at his computer. He trudged softly down the stairs and made his way into the garage, searching the storage area for the bag that he had brought with him when he came to live here. It did not take long to find and as he pulled it out he ran his fingers over the soft old leather before stuffing it under his arm and walking back up to his room with it.

It didn't take Sam long to pack, he was a very simple man, owned maybe ten shirts and a few pairs of jeans. Sam made sure to pack his worn denim jacket, and as he picked it up he could hear Rafe's voice in his ears. “Sam...More denim?” Rafe had laughed. Sam had a bad addiction for all things denim and at first it had driven Rafe mad, but as time went on he seemed to harbor a fondness for it. He would even find Rafe wearing his large denim jacket in the winter, though on Rafe it hit his mid thigh and it would always make Sam laugh. He remembered the most recent winter, when Sam had been outside shoveling the driveway and Rafe had come outside to tell him that he had hired people to do that. But Sam had only laughed and pulled Rafe into his embrace when he saw him swimming in the large denim coat. He had placed kisses all over his face, Rafe warning Sam that he 'better not lick him, lest his tongue might stick to Rafe's face.' Sam felt a tear roll down his cheek as he packed the jacket in the old worn leather bag.

When Sam was finished packing he sat down at the small desk in the corner of the room. A pen in hand as he stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him. He had so many things he wished he could say. So many memories, so many thoughts, but he had no clue where to start...

 

_"Dear Rafe,_

_I am sorry that things didn't turn out how we had expected them to. I am sorry that as much as we seemed to have loved one another, I just wasn't enough. I never imagined that it would come to this. I never imagined that I would find myself packing my things away and leaving this place. Because I never imagined us seperating. You gave me so many good things in life, and for that I am forever grateful. I never imagined that someone like you would ever even come close to being with someone like me. You are all I could have ever asked for, all I could have ever wanted, and I am so, so very sorry that we just didn't work out. You gave me things I never deserved. You gave me things I would have never even thought to ask for. But most of all you gave me something I never thought I would find, Love._

_When I met you I never imagined my life would turn out the way it did. I never imagined that I would be so in love with someone else that I would loose myself in something as simple as your gaze. When I close my eyes I can still see yours, staring right back at me. Two deep cerulean pools that hold the stars, no, the universe in them. Looking into your eyes is like looking into the sun. It is blinding and over whelming, but oh so satisfying. Being in your arms is what I imagine heaven must feel like. A warm embrace that you just don't want to leave. It's unlike anything else I have ever experienced. Kissing you is like sky diving. Exhilarating and new every time. It is something I will never forget._

_I am sorry, so very very sorry that I just couldn't be what you needed. I am so very sorry that things turned out the way they did. I hope that one day, we might meet again. But until then, I will hope you in my heart._

_Yours, Always, Samuel Morgan Drake"_

 

Sam set the pen down, and folded the letter neatly before laying it on the bed. He set his cellphone there was well, Sam had been on Rafe's phone plan since before they had started seeing each other intimately solely because Sam was terrible with technology. He gave the room another sweep with his eyes before grabbing his bag and stepping out of the door.

He walked quietly down to the garage where his motorcycle was. Rafe had thrown an absolute fit the day he had bought the bike, but Sam loved the damn thing. He plucked his keys off the key ring and revved the engine. He hadn't been riding in nearly six months so he let the engine run while he strapped his bag to the back and buckled on his helmet before throwing his leg over the seat and tearing out of the garage.

He didn't know where he was going, or what his plan was. All he knew was that if Rafe didn't want him around, he would make it easier on the both of them. Even if it meant leaving everything he loved behind and making a new life for himself.

 


	3. Gone in a flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it felt so right before, how can it feel so wrong now? Rafe questions his decision to end things with Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Rafe's POV. (I am not good at writing Rafe. He and I are too different in personality, still, I hope you enjoy.)

Rafe stood and stretched his arms above his head. His sleep had been restless and haunted by the look of hurt and betrayal in those deep brown eyes he had loved so much. Every time he had closed his eyes Sam came back to him, his face hollow and sunken. His features drawn in a mask of what Rafe could only categorize as hopelessness. He looked lost, scared, and confused. And Rafe knew that he was to blame, as much as he knew Sam would forever blame himself for this.

But there was nothing to be done about it. Things were said and done and Rafe needed to get back to work. It was nearly sunrise and he was behind schedule as it was. There were always things to do, with his family's company, with his treasure hunting ventures. Always something to be done, someone to be contacted, and Rafe was ready for anything that would take his mind off of that sad puppy dog look of Sam's.

He walked quietly downstairs to the kitchen, unsure if Sam ever moved from the couch or not. 'Thank god for automatic coffee makers', he thought to himself as he poured a cup of black coffee and headed back up the stairs. He hadn't heard a peep from the couch, Sam must have made his way upstairs after all. Rafe sighed a breath of relief, he was not ready to face Sam again yet.

He sat for an eternity at his computer, forcing himself to think of something, anything, to keep his mind busy. The keys clicked away and soon he felt himself falling into that steady pace of work he loved so much. It was nearly noon before he finally sat back and looked at his handiwork. Pages upon pages of writing, research, and and notes. He was on the trail of some lost dynasty that had him searching for flights to Austria and Germany. When he finally got to the airline page is when it hit him again. It was such a simple question, 'Number of passengers', and yet it was the hardest one he had been asked all day. Would Sam even want to continue to be his work partner? Could he even do any of this without Sam's plethora of knowledge? He shook his head. He would have to ask him when he woke up.

* * *

Again, he got lost in his work. So much so that he never heard Sam make his way downstairs. It wasn't until he heard the stairs creek while Sam was on his way back up that he looked over the monitor of his computer to see him carrying the old leather bag that he had arrived with. Sam didn't look in his direction, not even a glance. His head was bowed and his shoulders drooped. Rafe sighed, he wanted so badly to go to him, to tell him that it was going to be okay. But he didn't, he couldn't bring himself to give Sam that false sense of hope. Because it just wasn't right. So he buried himself further and further into his work.

* * *

 

He heard Sam when he opened his door, heard the floor boards creak under his feet, heard him walk quietly down the wooden stairs in his steel capped boots. And it was that moment that he knew Sam was leaving. It hurt him a little, that Sam didn't even stop to say goodbye. Because he knew that this was the end. He knew that as soon as Sam stepped out of that door that he wouldn't see him again. But he couldn't run after him. Couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from the blank computer screen he had been staring at for nearly an hour now. So he just sat there.

He sat there and listened as Sam revved the engine of his bike. The one that made Rafe so nervous because he knew Sam drove like a maniac on it. He can still remember the day he brought the damn thing home. How his breath caught in his throat, how he wanted to scream at Sam to bring it back because he had seen too many men get mutilated by bikes like that. Wanted to beg him, because he cared so much for him, and didn't want to see him get hurt because some careless driver got too cocky and ran him down. But he didn't.

Instead he just sat there waiting, listening for the sound of the engine to die down before standing from his desk. He knew better than to hope for anything. Knew better than to think that Sam had left him any clue as to where he was going. But still, he made his way down the hall, opening the door to one of the many spare rooms and glancing around.

It didn't take long for his eyes to land on the folded up piece of paper that lay on the bed next to the small black looking box. For a moment it did not sink in that it was Sam's cell phone until he picked it up and held it in his hands. It was still on when he pressed the lock screen button and a photo of the two of them lit up the screen.

He stared at it blankly for a moment. It was an older photo, one from last year. Sam stood behind Rafe with one arm around his middle, the other high in the air holding the phone. They were both smiling, no doubt at something Sam had said. He always did tend to have something amusing to say and for a moment Rafe felt a twinge of pain. Still raw and burning.

He set the phone down, picking up the letter and letting himself read over it two even three times before letting the words really sink in. So this was it, Sam was really gone, really leaving. For a moment Rafe almost felt mad. How, how could he do this? And then he remembered. Sam didn't do this, in fact, as much as Sam felt like he was the cause of all this, he had nothing to do with it what so ever. It was all Rafe. Rafe had decided to end things, Rafe had decided that hurting Sam now was a million times easier than hurting him if he never felt anything more for him. He had promised Sam that they would try. He had promised Sam that he would give it his best shot. But in the end, Rafe was a cold unfeeling working machine. The parts had been oiled, fixed, and cleaned. He was closed off to the world and lived in his own mind. Only ever focusing on the task at hand. And that wasn't what he wanted for Sam.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Letting the letter fall from his hand onto the floor. Just yesterday he had felt like this was the right thing to do. Just yesterday he had felt like letting Sam go was right for the both of them. But if it was so right, why did it feel so wrong now?

 


	4. A new life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam makes a life for himself.

The wind whipped past him, cold and unforgiving as he sped down the road. Under his helmet his face was a mess of swollen eyes and puffy cheeks. If it weren't for all the padding soaking up his tears his whole face would be soaked. It was a very short drive to the nearby city that lay in the valley, and it took Sam only a mere 15 minutes before he was pulling his bike over into the parking lot of one of its few hotels. Rafe's manner was situated on the side of a Mountain and he often paid for the upkeep of many of the buildings in the little city below his manner so that when business partners came to pay him a visit they had a nice place to stay. That being said, everyone in the city knew Rafe and by proxy knew Sam.

The woman at the reception desk smiled brightly at him when he walked into the door. “Hello, Mr. Drake. And how are we today?” She asked cheerily. Sam put on his most charming act, smiling from behind his dark eyes.

“Hey love, I am doing fantastic. Do you have any rooms available? Something for a more long term stay?” The receptionist cocked her head in question but pushed no further, lowering herself back into her seat behind the counter and typing away at her computer.

“Well, sir. It looks like we have a few rooms available. How long will our guest be staying? When will they be arriving?”

“I am here now, and will be staying indefinitely.” She looked up, her face scanning over his features, an eyebrow cocked. “You can just keep a running tab I assume?”

She nodded. Sam looked her over. Her name badge Anna and he made sure to make a mental note of that. Sam handed her his card, he didn't use the thing often so he had quite a bit of money stock piled from their ventures over the past few years. After living so cheaply for so many years Sam found it hard to spend money even when he had it. She slid his card through the machine and handed him two key cards. “Room 305, enjoy.” She smiled as he turned and collected his bag, walking towards the elevator.

The room was small, but cozy. He unpacked his bag and placed his things in the drawers before taking a full look around. On the back wall was a small kitchen set up, a two burner stove with a mini fridge. A couple cabinets with dishes above, next to a pantry set up. Sam huffed. He would have to go buy groceries. It was only a few paces to get from point A to point B and Sam made his way to the bed. It was soft, and the pillows were filled with down. It reminded him of the pillows on Rafe's bed but when Sam rolled over and pressed his face into the fabric it smelt nothing like home. Again, pain wrecked through his body but this time the tears didn't come. Nothing but a deep twinge of pain as he sighed heavily.

It was still early in the day and Sam still had things to do. He needed to make his way to the nearest phone store and to the grocery store to buy food. So he peeled himself up off of the mattress and made his way back downstairs.

As he passed the Reception desk, Anna waved him down. “Sir, your parking pass.” Sam took it happily and slid it into his wallet, filling out the small slip of paper with his license plate number and information on it before heading out the door. It was quiet in town, most people working, as he zipped down the main street and pulled into the parking lot of the food mark. The trip inside took only a few minutes and he made small talk with the manager who had bagged his groceries. Sam always had an easy time making friends. Always had an easy time getting along with anyone and everyone. It was always Sam's job to speak with Rafe's newest business partners first. Warm them up before the real guns came barreling in. It was a good system.

* * *

Sam settled in very quickly. Found himself a job at a local bookstore that sold antique books, and made a life for himself. It was crazy just how quickly time could go by when you had something to keep your mind busy. He had made a name for himself in the little town, he often read to the kids on Thursdays or told them stories of his adventures. Showing them all the scars he had received bands of pirates (Or, in reality just from sliding down a rough rock face.) He loved the way their faces would light up when he retold his tales. From fighting his way through the jungles, to standing on mountain tops overlooking the world. Though, with every retelling, his heart would start to ache. The feeling of loss still stuck in his brain.

He had been living at the hotel nearly 9 months now, always avoiding the lobby as much as possible in case any of Rafe's associates happened to be in town. Sam kept to himself in the hotel, he always left a tip for the cleaning ladies when they came in for their weekly cleaning, always spoke to the ever kind Anna who greeted him nearly every morning. There came a time where she had approached him and asked if he would be willing to get dinner sometime, but he assured her that he was definitely batting for a different team. She had respected that, and was still so polite to him. They became close friends, well, as close of friends as a 'landlord' and 'tenant' could be and she often left her small gifts. Baked goods from the local bakery, candy from the candy shop in the book store. It was a simple life. But he was as happy as he could be.

He thought of Rafe often. When he would come across new leads, or a cool find in one of the old books at the store. It almost felt wrong, not contacting him, but Sam knew it was for the best. He was sure he was still building his empire. Still working to better himself and working himself to the bone. So Sam left him be. On a clear day, he could look up the mountain and see the gates to his manor. Could see the little path that wound its way along the back of the fence where Sam would always go to clear his head. But those thoughts quickly passed, Sam always tried to move on from them before he could get himself too far down the path of 'what could have been'.

 


	5. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a good cup of Joe reunites old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such short chapters. Have been trying to decide if I should combine chapters or just continue doing 1-2k chapters. Opinions?

It was a chilly autumn morning and Sam had the day all to himself. He had been working nearly 3 weeks straight before his boss had begged him to take a day off. 'Sam, you can't just work your life away', she had said, laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking her head. Sam had just laughed but agreed to take the day off.

He found himself sitting at a quiet little bistro on the edge of town that was known for its coffee. He was pouring over a book while taking small bites of the sandwich he had ordered. Next to him sat some sort of coffee beverage he had been taking sips of, the heat of it warming his cold body after driving all the way out of town on his motorcycle.

The book he was reading was about some lost city in the Jungles of India where it was rumored that some ancient tusk had been left. It always intrigued him just how much knowledge some people had on these cities while never venturing to them. He shook his head, 'Life of a treasure hunter I guess.'

* * *

 

 “Hmm, never would have taken you for a coffee guy?” A low voice said from beside him. Sam blinked, scared to look up. The voice was familiar, soothing and low, and Sam knew that he had heard it somewhere before.

Slowly he looked up to find himself peering into the scrutinous gaze of none other than Raphael Adler. A lump built in his throat as he stared upwards, unblinking before Rafe motioned to the seat beside Sam. “May I sit?” Sam nodded and looked back down to the book on the table.

“S-so?” His voice shook. He was unsure of where to start. He couldn't bring himself to even look at Rafe. “So, what uh, what brings you here?” Sam said quietly.

“You don't have to whisper Samuel.” Rafe said, an edge to his words as they sliced through the air.

Sam cleared his throat. “What are you doing here, Rafe?” Sam said a little more firmly before looking up, his hand slowly closing his book. Rafe was looking at him evenly, his eyes piercing and still.

“I came for coffee. This does happen to be the best coffee joint around after all.” Sam nodded and picked up his drink to take a sip.

“Yes. They do happen to have some very good coffee.” Sam attempted to smile but he face faltered when he looked back up to see that Rafe's face hadn't changed. It seemed so out of place. This man, sitting at the table across from him looking as if he would like to strangle Sam, when the last time they had seen each other they had been recently separated lovers. “So... How have you been?” Sam asked, almost hesitantly.

* * *

 

Rafe studied his face, the lines much deeper then they had been the last time he had seen him. His smile no longer reaching to his eyes. It took all he had to not lean across the table and grab him by the collar of that stupid Henley he was wearing and kiss him stupid. So instead he sat there, a calculating look splayed across his blank features.

'...how have you been?' Sam's voice was more honest than he had ever imagined. It had been over a year since he had heard it and it sent a shiver down his spine. But he couldn't let Sam know that. So he sat there unmoving. “I am fine Samuel. And yourself?”

“Sam, please, call me Sam.” His voice had broken on the last syllable of his very own damn name and it killed Rafe to hear it. His heart dropped into his stomach when he glanced at his face and saw the pain that Sam held there. The pain and the confusion. But he kept on with his mask and his walls, not wanting Sam to see the pain he was experiencing himself.

They sat and talked idly for what felt like hours. Sam filling Rafe in on his simple life. Rafe telling Sam about his newest discoveries and voyages. About meeting up with Nadine Ross, about partnering with some company called Shoreline to help move things along quicker. Rafe did admit that it had been so much harder to find certain facts and artifacts since Sam had left his crew, but about how his business was still flourishing and how he was continuing to find new artifacts and adventures the further he delved into his research, to which Sam had asked if he ever slept. Sam told Rafe all about the tusk that he had been researching and told Rafe that it was something that he might want to look into. Rafe had thanked him and written the information down in a small notebook he had taken out of his jacket pocket.

By then end of it, they had sat and talked for nearly 4 hours. Eventually they had run out of things to say and Sam's coffee had gone cold so he ordered one for the road. It was a simple goodbye. Sam wishing Rafe good luck, Rafe assuring Sam that as kind as that was he didn't need it. That had made Sam laugh. A sound which Rafe had found he had missed very much. He knew that it was going to be a rough night as he stepped towards his car. He watched as Sam headed towards his bike and without thinking closed his car door and jogged towards Sam.

“Phone.” He said, sticking his hand out and coughing when Sam stared blankly at him. Slowly Sam had reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flip phone. Rafe scoffed. Of course Sam would have a rinky dink old cellphone like that. He typed in his number and saved it before pressing the call button and sending the call to his phone. After it had begun buzzing he snapped the phone closed and placed in back in Sam's palm before smirking and turning on his heel.

“I will be waiting for a call Sam.” He called slyly over his shoulder before stepping into his car. More than glad for the dark window tint as a small tear rolled down his cheek.

 


End file.
